487 Acacia Willows
by SapphiraSkies
Summary: Korra simply wants a taste of the finer things, and much to Mako's dismay, Tahno is more than happy to help her indulge. Or; Everyone is entirely too invested in the scent of Korra's clothing. Post Book One, disregards all events after. { Tahnorra & Masami. }
1. 487 Acacia Willows

487 Acacia Willows

One: _487 Acacia Willows_

**_1760 words as of 12/12/14_**

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><p>She loves a ghost.<p>

It's silly calling him that, she knows, for he's very much alive and very much _real—_but he's still a _ghost_. He leaves fleeting touches upon her skin that make her wonder whether or not he was even present in the first place. He breathes smoke into her lungs when their lips meet, and cripples her at the knees. He leaves his smell, an odd combination of cigarettes and Republic City's finest cologne, upon her clothes, and makes Mako worry for her, because Korra shouldn't be playing with ghosts, and certainly not one as dangerous and unknown as Tahno.

It doesn't occur to her until late one evening, when the sun had long since set and the moon, shy and half concealed by the fall of midnight, dared to peek around the shadows, that _she _might be the ghost.

Korra turns in bed, the new-found idea that _she's_ a ghost making her head spin, and she feels like she's suffocating in her sheets, so she kicks them away, her skin prickling against the chill of the air. _It's too quiet,_ she muses. But really, it's not quiet. It's just as quiet as it's always been, for despite its high occupancy, the Air Temple isn't particularly rowdy at night.

But _it's too quiet_, and she stirs again and sits up, hair mussed about her face.

She has to quit him, she knows. It's too late for her to sneak away to his apartment and tuck herself between his skin and the sheets, and she hates herself for thinking that she misses him, so for the sake of her own pride, Korra forces Tahno from her mind. She doesn't think about his gentle, lulled breaths, or his sleepy slur when they stay awake far longer than intended, and hold each other as if they would never again get the chance, and chatted of anything and everything that came to mind. She doesn't think about the way he murmurs in his sleep, as if singing along to the low jazz record or tune on the radio that he insists playing long into the evening, because she hasn't yet adjusted to falling asleep to the sounds of the city.

And then, Korra realizes with a soft laugh-because she can't _believe _herself-that she can't sleep because the radio _isn't _on. When she hides herself away in Tahno's arms, she always had the soft melodies of a nameless vocalist singing along to a sleepy jazz band to send her away into her dreams. When she first spent the night at Tahno's lavish apartment, the constant drone of the radio whilst Tahno had slept soundly beside her had been disturbing, but gradually, the drone turned into a melody, and the noise of song behind their romantic backdrop had begun to rock her to sleep alongside him.

Perhaps she's grown used to that.

But she doesn't have a radio in her room, and the walls at the Temple are paper-thin, and even the lowest volume setting on a radio would startle Mako, Asami, or Bolin awake, and Korra would rather not answer invasive questions about her odd new sleeping habit.

She sits up in bed, bringing a hand to sweep through her hair (it always falls tight and flat against her head at night), and restlessly sighs again, unsure of the reason for her undefinable mood. She isn't upset—isn't angry or holding a grudge against somebody—and she isn't sad or melancholy. Her teeth sink into her lower lip, and flashes of heated moments paint before her eyes, and she can taste cigarettes on her tongue. Korra loosens her jaw and releases her lip, her mouth shaping into a distinct pout that she had never quite grown out of.

Spirits, even biting her lip reminds her of his hauntings.

With wary eyes, Korra looks at the analog clock that hangs silently above her door, making itself known with its occasional _tick, tick, ticking_.

_2:52AM_

She wonders if he's awake, but she knows his sleeping patterns well enough to assume that he had fallen prey to slumber at least an hour before. Regardless, her assumption doesn't stop her feet from pulling her from bed and sitting down at the small desk beneath the window of her room, and it doesn't stop her from flipping open her contact book and hunting down his name.

_Tahno Kurosawa  
><em> _487 Acacia_ _Willows  
>Republic City<em>

His number is beneath the label only because Korra forces herself to forget each digit after dialing. There's something about _not _having his number memorized, about _not _being able to contact him without the aid of her address book, that keeps her from feeling attached. Surely, she doesn't care _too much_ for him if she can't even be bothered to remember his phone number. She's lying to herself, however, because she hardly glances as the digits as she draws his number across her phone, and lazily holds the receiver to her ear.

It rings. And rings. And _rings_, a dull, monotonous droning in her ear, and Korra can feel her heart pounding in her chest, and hates herself for it. Of course, he's not going to answer. He's probably asleep, or out with Ming and Shaozu, his other ghostly friends, charming other women into falling for his phantom touches and calling him on sleepless evenings.

Her fingers grip the receiver tighter, for she's tired, and now she's made herself irrationally paranoid and angry, and the phone is still ring, ring, _ringing_ in her ear, and she almost hangs up, because he's most certainly not going to answer, he's most certainly sleeping, he's _most certainly_—

"_Hello_?"

Korra releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, and melts into her seat, the syllables of his greeting caressing her and soothing her mind, and she already feels better.

"Hey," She breathes, completely unaware of the soft smile that curls her lips. On the other line, she can hear faint static, as if the telephone speaker has picked up something in the background, but it can't decipher the sound waves correctly, and they broadcast as low pops and crackling.

"_Missing me already_?" He purrs, and Korra can hear that sleepy slur that drags his words out, and she laughs softly, her conscience quietly reminding her that it is nearly three in the morning, and if she's even a hair's breadth too loud, she could wake the entire island.

"Don't be so cocky, Tahno,"

"_But it's so fun_." He retaliates so quickly that it stuns her into silence. He's always been good at that though—at stealing the breath from her lungs and rendering her words useless. It's quiet for a moment, until he clears his throat on the other line, and Korra can almost picture him in front of her with bedroom eyes, messy hair, and lips twisted upwards into a smile as he clears his throat to catch her attention again.

"I don't even know why I called you," She admits, the words, though hushed, coming out much harsher than she intends, but he never takes anything seriously, and laughs, smooth and tame, on the other line. She has to bite her lip to swallow her own giggles.

"_Wanted to hear my voice, hm_?"

Spirits, yes, and Spirits, was his voice a _sin_, and she swears he's dropped it lower, if only to be smug. She wouldn't dare let him know just how much that dark voice of his effects her, however, and she swallows a sigh.

"You should try be humble once in a while," She murmurs into the phone, and her fingers begin to twirl the cord that connects the receiver to the modem. Whatever her plan was, it's working, for she can feel her eyelids begin to grow heavier, as if exchanging few words and playful banter was all she needed to unwind her muscles and calm her mind.

She can hear him yawn against the phone, and sits up a bit straighter, because she's forgotten that it's three in the morning, she's forgotten that ghosts sleep too, and he's probably just as tired as she is.

"_Did you really call to offer me __**life advice**__, Sweetheart?" _

She's going to melt underneath the heat of his voice, she swears it, and she leans forward, the table biting into her ribcage and sucking her breath from her lungs. He doesn't sound upset, or like he's taken anything she's said as more than late night flirting and directionless conversation, but still, guilt touches her heart..

He _has _humbled himself—or rather, the world has humbled him-and while he's still Tahno, there's undoubtedly something softer behind his words and actions now. She prefers him this way, a quiet tease to soothe her mind during the night, and she's glad he takes everything lightly—_envious_ of his ability to make humor of any situation.

"I'm going to see you tomorrow," She says, suddenly, and the words take her by surprise, and her fingertips brush over her lips, as if the syllables had lingered and would rub off on her skin as evidence of her confession.

He laughs on the other line. "_Oh, really?" _

Korra hesitates. Tomorrow… Tomorrow… what is she doing tomorrow? Training, most likely. Perhaps sharing a painfully uncomfortable breakfast with Mako, Bolin, and Asami, and then parting ways to argue with Tenzin and the Council over what she should be doing, what she isn't doing, and what she could be doing.

Playing hooky and sneaking away to spend her day with Tahno seems _much_ more appealing.

"Yeah," She says, this time with more certainty in her voice. "I want to do something exciting. Show me '_the finer things_'." She deepens her voice, mimicking the words that he's spoken to her on several occasions. There's a quick silence on the other line, though it isn't truly _silent_, for there's still the odd popping and static in the background.

"_Absolutely." _He sings to her. "_Your wish is my command, Princess," _

Korra's cheeks flush red, and she's glad that he's not in front of her, and she scoffs.

"Goodbye, Tahno—and _don't _call me that."

"_Fine, fine. Tomorrow, Sweetheart. I look forward to it." _

Then, with that informal goodbye, there's a soft _click_! and he's gone, getting the last word, as he always has.

And Spirits, does Korra _hate_ her ghost.

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><p><em>Acacia<em> - A vascular flower shaped like a tiny ball with spokes. Represents secret love, friendship, or beauty. The symbol that represents Tahno's apartment complex is colored yellow.

**So this is my latest problem child. It's been a while. Thank you so much for reading—next chapter to be up on December 19th!**


	2. Newspaper Headlines

487 Acacia Willows

Two: _Newspaper Headlines_

Mako catches her in the hall the next morning, his fingers pressing against the back of her hand as he stops her, and Korra can't tell if it's concern or anger that bows his brow. He's bit taller than Tahno (who already has quite a head on her), but she doesn't feel any scrutiny or intimidation beneath his gaze. Mako doesn't _scare_ her—she knows him too well to let his temper better her, she likes him too much to shrink to submission.

He's quiet for a moment, and they simply stare at each other, his eyes drilling flames into hers, and Korra kisses her teeth with her tongue, growing agitated, and tugs her hand away from his.

"If you're only going to stare at me, go get a newspaper. I'm sure you can find my face somewhere—"

"_Where_ are you going, Korra?" He cuts her off, and Korra draws back, settling her weight on her hip.

"Excuse me? Why does it _matter_?" She knows she shouldn't be so defensive, because it'll only rouse more suspicion from him, but her freedom is already limited enough, and she isn't doing anything that pertains to _him_. Deep inside, however, she wished she could tell him the truth, that she was going to see her _boyfriend_ (even though she was hesitant to label whatever it was that she shared with Tahno), but Korra suspected that the bundle of hope was one of her past lives whispering the evils of lying in her ear.

Mako bites the inside of his cheek, and narrows his eyes at her, as if he's trying to read text that's too far away to be seen clearly. "You know Tahno's bad news, right, Korra?" He says it so casually that it fills Korra's veins with rage, and her lip curls up.

"I'm _not_ going to see him," _Lies. _"And even if I _was,_ I think I'm a better judge of character than you." In that moment, she wishes for a wristwatch, if only to glance at it impatiently for the show of her attitude.

Mako is quiet again, but Korra can tell he's _boiling_ inside, and would rather leave without scorching her clothes.

"If we're done here…?" She gestures between them, the question in her voice sarcastic, for she's leaving regardless of whether or not she has Mako's approval, and she knocks into his shoulder as she heads down the hallway, her destination clear in her mind.

Bad news.

No. Tahno isn't bad news—he's simply in bad newspaper headlines.

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><p>It's a whisper past noon when she arrives at Tahno's apartment, and she stands in front of the door for all of three seconds, eyes tracing the golden numbers that spell out <em>487<em> on his door, contemplating whether or not she should be polite and knock, or take advantage of the spare key that he's not-so-cleverly hidden beneath the potted bamboo plant just beside his door.

Korra decides on the latter, and opens the door with the key, cringing at its squeaky hinges. Gone are her plans of coming in undetected. But her worry is, for the second time in twelve hours, fruitless, because it's as soon as she closes the door and locks it (and pockets the spare key, because it might prove itself to be useful at some time in the future) that she hears the running water of the shower from upstairs, and it doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon.

She's never been in his apartment without him close behind her or near her, and she feels odd, because Spirits, his home is _beautiful_, and she feels as if she shouldn't touch anything. But she's curious, and promises herself that she won't break anything as she slowly begins to look around, her eyes dancing across the art deco paintings that adorn his walls, and she wonders, as she lifts her fingers to trace over a particularly interesting oil canvas of a faceless woman in a yellow dress, if this is what a museum is like.

Somewhere along the way, she stumbles upon his memorabilia display. She's noticed it before—dusty, and pushed into a dimly-lit corner of the apartment—but hasn't asked him questions about it, due to a fear of accidentally triggering painful feelings.

With wide eyes, she inspects the display, leaning so close to it that her breath fogs up the glass. Inside, it's a museum of Tahno's career. Newspapers from four years earlier, pictures of his first time in the arena, drafts of the Wolfbats' early concept, trophies, masks, _everything_. He really was _incredible _and his legacy lights up her eyes and brings a soft smile to her face.

But the triumph is ruined, for in the very middle of the display, taped hastily with black duct tape, is the front page paper from two months ago.

_**Tahno Kurosawa & Wolfbats, Equalized ; The End of an Era **_

The tape scars his name, and the paper itself is torn and wrinkled, and there's a large, red _X _across the picture of his face, just beneath the headline. Her expression sours, brows turning in, and lip jutting out into a pout.

She wonders how he's dealing with it, and wonders if he's really as _OK_ as he insists he his.

She's absorbed in the display, and doesn't hear the water stop running upstairs, and doesn't hear the gramophone on the other side of the living room start up, humming its leisurely tune to fill the silence in the apartment, and she certainly doesn't hear him walk up behind her, doesn't even know he's _there_, until strong arms slink around her waist.

She jumps, and lets out a small yelp of surprise, turning in his embrace to face him, eyes wide and shoulders tense.

He looks at her down the bridge of his nose, a sly, too-wide smile taking his face, and Korra almost smiles back, until she realizes that something's _off_ about his expression. His mouth has been trained, but his eyes deceive him, and Korra can't decide if its anger or sadness that dulls his icy blues into a bleak grey.

"I was just curious," She begins to explain herself, huffing a bit, because she feels like a child being scolded beneath a scornful glare. He doesn't seem too upset, however, and Korra realizes that she's read him completely wrong.

"Nothing wrong with that, Sweetheart," He purrs, but she hates the distance in his voice—it's as if he's not even talking to her, and she shifts uncomfortably on her feet and wiggles from his hold. Again, she turns, directing her attention to his display. This time, she's bolder, and lifts her fingers to run delicately across the glass. Her fingertips leave smudges across the spotless surface, but he doesn't say anything.

"Are you…" She begins, but pauses and clears her throat, because her words aren't coming together, and she wishes she were as eloquent as he. She sighs, and starts again, dragging her eyes away from the ugly newspaper, and ugly headline, to turn and face him once more.

"Are you okay?" She asks, her voice low, eyes wide, because she _means_ it—she wants to _know_. It can't be this easy for him—he can't be as _flippant _as he pretends to be.

Tahno looks down at her, and grabs her hands, squeezing them softly. "_Ab-so-lutely_, Honey."

Korra shudders, because she hates that nickname, but can never find it in herself to care when he bestows it upon her. Her lips turn down, and her brows crease together, forming lines in her forehead as she looks at him. She's skeptical, because he _always_ says he's okay, and always insists that his problems are of no worry to her—his problems are _insignificant_.

"_Tahno," _His name is strained on her tongue, a demand and a plea all at once.

He smiles. "_Korra_," The mimicked repetition.

She wants to slap him.

"I'm serious," She says. "All of the things in here," She gestures toward the display, as if emphasizing her point. "You can't be fine with this."

Maybe she's arguing with him because she feels guilty that she couldn't protect him. Or maybe she's trying to clear her conscience, because only months before, she had wrongly convinced herself (with the help of Mako and others), that if anybody _deserved_ to lose their bending, it was Tahno. Or maybe she just wants to connect with him, and reverse the roles. Korra's not used to being the damsel in distress, not used to being the one with all of the problems. And she doesn't want the basis of their relationship to be built upon her cracks and his solidity.

He hesitates, and Korra can practically see the gears turning in his mind, beyond his eyes. He's contemplating something, but she doesn't know what, and it's a bit irritating, because she's never had to _contemplate_ whether or not to tell him something—because she trusts him. And she shouldn't care whether or not he trusts her—Spirits, she shouldn't even be here in the first place—but she _is_. She's here. She's with him. And she _cares_.

He's quiet for too long, and Korra bites the inside of her cheek and swallows her words, because she wants to become irrationally angry at him for being so distant, but she's not the ill-tempered child she was only two months ago, and she knows that patience (though she has yet to master the art) is key.

"It doesn't get easier," He finally admits, though his words are slurred and drawled no differently than they would be if he were teasing her, and Korra can't quite tell if he's serious or not.

"Tahno—" She says again, but her breath is cut short when he brushes his cold hand across her cheeks, his knuckles, a bit rough from neglect, caressing her skin. It's then that she notices the way he's looking at her—eyes so cloudy and hazed with gentle affection that she's glad they're not in bed, for she would never leave. He's smiling too, though its soft, his teeth hidden behind a close-lipped, crooked grin, and Korra thinks it's the prettiest she's ever seen him look before.

"_I'm fine, Sweetheart," _He assures her, and the tenderness in his voice can only be compared to that of the tone a lover would lay upon their other, and Korra lets her eyes flutter shut beneath his words—even if she doesn't completely believe him.

If ever she questioned her reasoning for chasing ghosts, she found her answer in moments like this—when the romance outweighed the taboo (the _questionable_ taboo, because he wasn't nearly as awful as everybody claimed he was), and the tenderness outweighed any scolding glances they received beneath the public eye. He's _different_ around her—or at least she has a possessive hope that the softer, sweeter smiles that he gifts to her are for her eyes only.

She sighs and pulls away, turning her head to the side, because she can't take his affections any longer. It's horrid of her, she knows, to use him as her paramour, and hope that he isn't doing the same, but if she's going to sin, she'd rather it be with Tahno.

"I think Mako's onto us," Korra tosses the words out, almost bashfully, into the air, and distracts herself by stepping around him and circling back into the living room with leisure, unsure of her own motives for saying such a thing. Behind her, she can hear a hum of laughter from Tahno.

"_Oh, really_?" He purrs, and follows her trail, like a predator flirting with its prey, and slips behind her, his chest against her back, and Korra jumps, his scent encompassing her. He's just gotten out of the shower, and he smells faintly of aftershave and a cologne that she can't identify by name, but associates with him nonetheless. His arms fit around her waist, and she leans against him, eyes fluttering shut.

"He always gets on to me about smelling like cigarettes," She murmurs, and it's not the entire truth, but she bites back a laugh anyway, and Tahno detects a smile in her tone. There's _much_ more to Mako's suspicions than the nicotine that lingers behind on Korra's skin, but she holds her tongue and the conversation piece for a different time.

"_Oh_ _dear_." He breathes against her ear, and her eyes flutter shut. _Spirits, how sinful._ "I really should _kick_ the habit," He remarks, but they both know he's only teasing. Korra shakes her head to dismiss the idea, anyway.

"No—I don't care what he thinks," There's a hesitation afterward, and she adds, as an afterthought, "And it's kind of sexy."

He laughs behind her, and the soft glow of a blush dusts across her cheeks. She doesn't know why or _how_ he does this to her—turns her normally brash behavior into that of a shy school girl—and she both loves it and hates it. It's uncharted territory, their relationship, and neither of them are particularly skilled at cartography. Still, Korra holds tight for the ride, for Tahno spoils her, and she quite enjoys pretending that she's a normal girl, if only for the few short hours that spends with him.

"Aren't you _bold_," He remarks, releasing her from his hold, only to circle around her with slow, languid steps (that remind Korra of a playful tiger-kitten) and look at her down the careful curve of his nose.

Korra matches his glare, though suppressing her smile is quite a task, for more often than not, their playful banter concludes with soft laughter on her part, and a sweet smile and finishing remark on his. Her tongue brushes across her teeth behind closed lips, and she almost wants to stand on the tips of her toes and press a hard kiss to his lips, if only to clear his face of his smug disposition.

Instead, however, she says, "I came to _eat_. I thought that you'd be generous enough to take me out today." She's hinted at no such thing before, and smiles, an expression that's equally cheeky as much as it is prideful. Manipulation has never been a trait that Korra's held dear, but she doesn't mind teasing him, because he always retaliates back.

To her surprise however, he only smiles and winks at her—the wolfish charm that's swooned countless women over the years—and draws away from her.

"_You think you're clever,"_ he murmurs, shaking his head softly. "Fine, Honey," Tahno turns, and begins to head upstairs, waving his hand flippantly about the air. "Pick your poison—I'm going to go _change_." He sings to her, before completely disappearing to the upper level of his apartment.

Korra can't help but stick her tongue from between her lips at him, a childish response to his girlish need to always dress himself up for the town, even though she really does _adore_ him.

He's _quite_ the diva.

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><p><strong>I probably should've warned you all earlier, this is going to be a very slow-moving plot, and it'll focus more on Tahnorra moments than anything else. :) <strong>

**Next update is going to be a double, because it would be unfair of me to post a short (but important) chapter and make you guys wait another week. Thanks so much for reading, please comment if you'd be so kind! **

**See you guys on the 26th of December. Happy holidays! **


	3. The Golden Lily

487 Acacia Willows

Three: _The Golden Lily_

_The Golden Lily _is one of Republic City's finest restaurants for authentic Fire Nation Cuisine, but the majority of its patrons didn't favor the restaurant because of the food. It's a grand establishment, which makes itself known across the city with a vertical, neon sign, decorated with red, orange, and white flashbulbs, that dazzle during the day just as much as they electrify and contribute to the city's atmosphere during the evening.

Beyond the exterior, the inside is large and flashy-undoubtedly the work of Fire Nation natives, with impeccable black tile floors, each individual tile polished until it could double as a looking glass. The layout itself spans two levels-an elevated platform houses the dining tables, and fine dining tables they are. Polished mahogany, edged with gold is where the plates rest, and the seats, whether they be finely upholstered booths, or elegant plush chairs, are where the weary can rest all evening, eating, chatting, and sipping away their worries at leisure.

The lower half of the restaurant is where the party truly is, with a stage for live music (only the _most talented_ of bands), a wide, spacious dancefloor, high tables for resting, and a bar lining the right wall. The bar is heavily equipped with aged Fire Nation whiskey, Arctic vodkas, and Earth Wines that hadn't been uncorked since the reign of Fire Lord Ozai.

Frequently patroned by the city's rich elite during the evening_, The Golden Lily _never failed to deliver in regards to entertainment. Whether one preferred to simply socialize with the _Wolfbats_, play Pai Sho with Koko Fen, of the _Koalaotters_, or get swanky upon a dance floor, the choices were plentiful. During the day, however, _The Golden Lily _was far more leisurely, living out the other half of its double life as a meeting place higher-ranking business and political officials.

Regardless of one's personal preference toward Fire Nation cuisine or distaste toward the _Wolfbats_, _The Golden Lily _was not a venue to stray far from.

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><p><strong>I toLD YOU this one was going to be much shorter but don't worry! Next chapter goes up tomorrow. I'm just not happy enough with it yet to post it today. <strong>

**As for my reasoning for posting a chapter like this, The Golden Lily is going to be a very important and frequently visited setting, so I figured it would make for a better reading if I dedicated a chapter to describing it. I hope you guys had a happy holiday season! A lot more Tahnorra interaction will happen tomorrow (or later tonight, depending on if I finish the next chapter tonight)! Thanks so much, and please review if you'd be so kind!**

**For those of you that read on tumblr, this chapter + the next chapter will be going up on the same text post. **


	4. Forest Fires

487 Acacia Willows

Four: _Forest Fires_

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><p>Korra decides on <em>The Golden Lily<em> partially due to Tahno's bias for the eatery. He's mentioned it several times before, hinted at the restaurant's impeccable food and lush following, and frankly, the aura of mystery has gotten to her, and she'd like to burst the surprise.

It's a fairly pleasant restaurant, undoubtedly the fanciest that she's ever attended—perhaps a bit too grandious for her comfort—and she glances around. It's not exactly _busy_—there are people seated sparsely amongst the facility, but it's no lunch rush. The few customers all turn their heads to spare a look at the odd coupling of The _Former Wolfbat_, Tahno, and _Avatar Korra_, and had it been Korra's first outing with Tahno, she would've felt anxiety, or a bubbling anger and urge to tell the onlookers to mind their own business, but she's grown used to the eyes by now, and pays the onlookers little mind.

Tahno's hand is pressed against the small of her back, and he guides her to a more secluded booth in the corner of the facility. She sits across from him, her body sinking in against the smooth upholstery of the seats, and a soft gasp of surprise leaves her lips as the booth cushions her. Across from her, Tahno laughs, and settles down just as she does, his fingers gracing a menu that had already been so delicately set upon the table.

Korra follows suit, eyes scanning across the items, momentarily growing wide as she finds the prices of each entreé. Her teeth sink into her lip. This place is _expensive_, and while she knows that Tahno isn't struggling in any way, shape, or form, she doesn't want to be the source of his dwindling bank account, and she doesn't have enough money on hand to pay for the dishes that appeal to her senses.

Like a sixth sense, he picks up on her worry, and his fingers hook along the top of the menu and drag it down. He peers at her, eyes crinkling a bit at the corners as his lips curl into a wry smile.

"_Anything_ your heart desires, Sweetheart." He purrs, and her worries melt away with the heat of his voice, and she matches his wit with a smile of her own, and yanks the menu back into her own possession.

"Yeah, yeah," Imitating his mannerisms, she waves her hand, well aware that she's teetering a risky appearance of selfishness, but knows that he won't take her seriously.

A moment of silence, filled with the tune of a gramophone record (because the live band doesn't go on until much later), passes between the two as they study the menus. Tahno isn't particularly famished, and decides on _Gan guo_ to satisfy his tastes. He's less concerned about the food, however, and more concerned about what's got his date balled up in her seat. The tension in her shoulders and worry upon her brow are tugging at his heart, for he can't _stand_ it when her stress is adamant. He watches her as she scans through the dishes on the menu, and watches her still as a waiter, clad in all black, takes their orders (though the young man seems a bit dumbfounded to be serving both Tahno and _Avatar _Korra) and scurries away, reassuring them with a gentle stutter that it, '_s-shouldn't be very long at all!'_

Tahno leans forward, his elbows pressing into the table, and, at the risk of appearing creepy, looks at Korra with bright, sleepy eyes. She, unabashedly, meets his gaze. He doesn't say anything, however; he only studies her. He traces the soft curves of her sweet lips, almost tastes her upon his tongue, and bounces his eyes along the button of her nose, so small and wonderfully shaped for her face. She's quite the _stunner_, and through slow blinks and slurred syllables, he tells her such.

Korra snaps to attention at his words, having at once been zoning out, and taking in the quiet atmosphere that _The Golden Lily _offers to them. Her brows furrow, as if she's angry at the soft flush of red she can feel taking her cheeks, and her eyes roll in his direction.

"You don't have to say that," She murmurs, dragging her attention down to the delicately folded napkin that rests before her on the table. She lifts a hand to fiddle with the folds and drag the design apart.

It isn't that she's _arrogant_, or so insecure that she might deny any claims of her own beauty, for she's fairly accustomed to her own appearance, and while she's long since accepted that things such as hairstyles and makeup are low on her priority list, Korra knows that she's _pretty_. She's often (often being the caring words of her mother and father) been told that she possesses an aura of _classic_ beauty, with the big, bright blue eyes; dark, rich skin, and thick, endowed figure of a full blooded Southern Water Tribe woman. Korra, despite her appearance, hasn't placed beauty high upon her values.

Except when she's with Tahno.

Her heart always _pounds_ in her chest, her cheeks always flush red, and she always becomes so impishly _bashful_ when he comments on her appearance, because a compliment from him somehow means more to her than a compliment from other silent admirers. Perhaps its his nonchalance that flatters her, as if he's simply reciting something as obvious as the color of the sky to her.

"You don't _have_ to be so _humble_," He shoots back to her, his voice a low hum, lips turned upwards in a crooked cast of a smile.

"Sorry if I don't want to end up like _you_." She's smiling as she says it, for its business as usual between them, and he only retaliates with a soft laugh.

Silence falls resolved about them, though Korra is only waiting for Tahno to break it, for the topic that refuses to leave her mind is one that she simply _can't _bring to the table without the aid of Tahno's interest.

Thankfully, he's observant. His tongue brushes across his teeth, and he reaches for the glass of water that had hastily been placed on the table earlier by their flustered waiter. His lips press against the cool glass, his breath fogging up the surface as he drinks deeply.

"_What's eating you_, _Darling?"_ Tahno asks after pulling the glass from his lips. Korra sucks the inside of her cheek.

"Mako." The name is strained on her tongue, and she feels somewhat guilty for filling their date with talk of a sour Fire Bender, but Tahno doesn't seem surprised by any stretch of the word.

He lifts a curious brow in her direction, and his eyes are alight with humor. "Oh?" His tone tips up with the syllable, and Korra is reminded of their phone call the night before, and his ever-present nonchalance soothes her mind.

She contemplates whether or not telling Tahno of Mako's prejudice is necessary to the impending conversation, and chews on her lip as she thinks. This is the first time she's had to decide whether or not to _hide_ something from him. Korra mulls over her thoughts carefully—something she's not quite used to doing, because she's always been impulsive in nature (it's her impulse that lead her to Tahno in the first place)—and she often finds that thinking about things for too long causes a breach in her courage.

"He doesn't like you very much—or at all, really. I think he hates you." She blurts out, and it doesn't sound terribly unlike word vomit. It's fitting, though. She doesn't like small talk, or beating around the bush, and Tahno doesn't seem entirely too fond of dancing around subjects for the sake of _sensitivity_, either.

But he draws back at her words, eyebrows shooting up and creasing in the middle, lips pursing into an '_O_', and throws a hand across his chest, as if he's horribly offended. "_Say it isn't so!"_ He cries, his voice airy.

Korra can instantly tell that he's being melodramatic, and a smile stretches across her face, complemented with a roll of her eyes. If she had been sitting next to him, rather than across from him, she would've smacked his arm with the back of her hand.

"You suck," She tosses out, though the syllables waver with laughter, and she mimics his earlier action and brings her glass of water to her lips and drinks, if only to busy her hands.

"So, that doesn't bother you?" She asks in reference to Mako's distaste, after she finishes half of the glass and returns it to the ivory coaster on which it rested before. There's a hint of uneasiness in her voice, but she passes it off with nonchalance—perhaps he'll think the quiver in her syllables is involuntary, and born from the cold water upon the surface of her tongue.

"Does it bother _you?" _He's joking, trying to lighten the mood, but Korra finds that the playful aura that bathed them only seconds before has dissipated.

"Yes."

His smile falters, his brows falling. It's clear to her that he hadn't expected such a straightforward answer, considering the banter that they had shared earlier. Tahno's tongue brushes across his teeth beneath his closed lips, and before he can speak again, their nervous waiter appears, balancing two dishes—a bowl of _Dan Dan _noodles, for Korra, and Tahno's _Gan Guo_—on a circular tray. Ambient small talk is made as the server sets their food, both entrees steaming, on the table. With murmured words of gratitude from the pair, he scurries away with a smile, leaving Tahno and Korra to stare at each other through the sizzling heat of their food.

Tahno unfolds the black cloth napkin that kept metal chopsticks and other utensils sanitary against the table, and drapes the fabric across his lap.

"And _why_," He begins, holding his chopsticks in his left hand and beginning to stir his food. "would it bother you, Darling?"

Korra takes after him, and unravels her silverware (though she doesn't bother putting the napkin in her lap, but rather bundles it up into a ball at the side of her bowl), shrugging her shoulders.

"It just does." She doesn't meet his eyes, and digs into her food. The noodles scorch the roof of her mouth with their heat, but send her taste buds tingling with their spice, and her eyes shut momentarily in bliss. Across the table, she can hear him laugh.

When she opens her eyes again, he's looking at her with such ardor that her cheeks begin to burn, which, naturally, increases his fondness for her.

"_Adorable_," He murmurs, the word drawn out on his tongue, syllables spilling lazily from his lips, and Korra can hear his natural Swamp Tribe accent bleed through the letters. She offers him a sheepish half-smile and a roll of the eyes, and brings her napkin to her lips, patting lightly, despite the fact that she hasn't yet made a mess.

"_Anyway_," She pushes the subject back toward the original topic. "Don't—" She pauses, considering her words carefully. There isn't any inclination in her to sour the mood of their date, but with such a poor imperative on her mind, she doesn't exactly have wiggle room, either.

A huff leaves her lips when she finds that her words are alluding her (perhaps they've been stolen by Tahno), and she lifts another mouthful of noodles to her lips and chews thoughtfully.

Tahno sees it as his cue to take control of the conversation, and steer her mind into clarity.

"Let me _guess_," He says, and his eyes sparkle as he looks at her. "You were _caught_ this morning, hm?"

Spirits, Korra wants to know how he manages to read her so well—is he supernaturally intuitive, or is she predictable?—and nods.

"He told me you were bad news. Whatever that means." Her voice sours, and her nose wrinkles as she recites Mako's words, the scene painting itself clearly in her mind.

_{ You know Tahno's bad news, right, Korra?" _}

Across from her, Tahno snickers, and lifts a bite of his food to his mouth. "_Oh dear_," A pause, for him to chew and swallow. "Is that his _worst_?"

Tahno's indifference bothers her, because she knows it's not _real._ It can't be real—he can't be as unaffected as he pretends to be, and his armor, though once strong and shiny, is corroded and cracking beneath the surface. Words get to him.

They have to.

And Korra hates that he hides from her. But that's not the point of their conversation, and she bites her lower lip.

"So I guess this means I'm not meeting your _friends_, hm?" Tahno drawls, his dark humor filling the silence, and Korra can't help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the comment, despite the seriousness of the situation.

"Not as long as Mako's being a brat," She says, her smile falling with the words, because she really _would_ like for Tahno to formally meet everybody on the island, and it's a childish desire of hers—a fantasy where everybody is just as infatuated and willing to see the good in Tahno as she is—but it's a desire nonetheless.

Tahno leans over the table, and plucks from Korra's bowl a small bundle of noodles, placing the food upon his tongue and slurping the noodles into his mouth with a soft _pop_! and Korra's too bothered, to incredibly _lost _within her fantasies to reprimand him, and Tahno notices.

His lips, tingling from the spice of her food, turn down, his brows bowing together as he looks at her.

"_Oh, Sweetheart,"_ He coos softly, leaning deeper into the table. His hand reaches across the table, his index and middle finger tucking beneath her chin, bringing her eyes to meet his.

"Does it _really_ bother you so much?" Again, his voice is warm and hushed, the syllables caressing her the way a lover would, and she purses her lips together and shrugs from his hand.

"Yeah, actually." Korra sees no reason to be bashful.

Tahno, respecting her space, draws back a bit, but still rests his elbows on the table, locking his fingers together, and cradling his chin atop his knuckles.

"_Why?"_ He asks, all too eager to listen, and speak not a word until she's released all that's pressing her mind.

_This, _Korra realizes, is why she's fallen so hard for him. He's incredibly attentive, and never says too much or too little, even when she has nothing to say. She wonders if he's always been like this—if his charming and gentlemanly nature is the reason why so many girls _kept coming back_ while he was a wolfbat, despite the negative connotation that the '_playboy_' side of his reputation withheld.

Her tongue brushes across her upper lip, and beneath his heavy-lidded gaze, she feels as if all of her problems—the fires burning within her—have been reduced to a more manageable, smouldering heat.

"It's just," a sigh. "It's stupid, don't you think?" She looks down, busying her hands with her noodles, though all she does is pick at them, and swirl the food around in the bowl.

Tahno blinks, but sits in silence, doesn't draw his gaze from her for a second, his eyes flickering to her lips, watching them mold around her words as she spills her syllables.

"Everybody thinks you're _so awful_—"

He can hear the exasperation in her voice, and it makes his heart flutter. It's touching to him, that she cares so much about what others think of him—that she'd be upset enough by the words of others to _defend_ him, and Tahno's vision of her only grows fonder

"But you're not. I mean—even I thought you were pretty _gross_ at first," She pauses, gauging his reaction to her confession, surprised when he laughs.

"Thanks," He purrs, lifting the atmosphere once more.

Korra smacks her teeth at him. "You know what I mean. Everybody is just so shallow. They don't like you, they don't like me, they don't like anything, and they only see what they want to see. It's frustrating." She pushes her bowl back, and it's clear to Tahno that this is about so much more than _Mako_, and what the fire bender thinks of him.

"_Korra_," Her name is a prayer from his lips, and she looks up at him, her brows softening. When he says her name, he pulls her back to the ground, and she wonders how somebody so ethereal can be so despised amongst a community.

She doesn't apologize for her tangent, though, and for that, Tahno is glad. She's been apologizing far too much lately—in the media and in press conferences—and it's exhausting for the both of them to hear her spit half-hearted (and half-hearted with due reason) condolences to an ungrateful public.

There's a silence amongst them once more, and Korra looks at her food. Her appetite is gone—not that she was truly hungry in the first place, because this entire escapade was only her excuse to see him—and the lazy atmosphere of _The Golden Lily_ is beginning to stifle her. She doesn't want to be _inside_ any longer—she doesn't want to hide away in the shelters of buildings and secluded booths. She wants _everybody_ to see them.

But she only tells him that she'd rather blow the joint.

Tahno laughs at her odd choice of vernacular, but holds his finger up, signalling for her to wait just a minute as he fishes his wallet from his pocket and tosses fifty yuans and some change—for the waiter, he tells her—onto the table.

They're a strange couple—they get odd looks, they have contrasting reputations—but they're similar in ways far deeper than either of them expects anybody to understand.

It's okay, though.

Because Korra decides that she's going to _stop caring_ so much about everything, and enjoy Republic City with him, and all it has to offer her.

Unfortunately, it's going to take _much more_ for Korra's life to turn than just a simple, impulsive decision.

* * *

><p><strong>screams. I'm sorry this is out later than I had promised. I'm not incredibly happy with it, but here it is nonetheless. Thank you all for your kind reviews and follows. If you're from my tumblr reading this, I appreciate you so much, and the next chapter will be up in the usual formatting on my blog. This chapter was a bit lengthy for a text post. <strong>

**I'm also very happy that you guys are pleased with a slower plot! Thank you so so much, and please leave comments if you'd be so kind! **

**I'll see you on the 2nd of January with a normal update. Have a happy new year!**


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